


It Was a Graveyard Smash

by grey2510



Series: Misc SPN Works (<15k words) [62]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Universe, Garth is a delight, Gen, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Shapeshifters - Freeform, Vampires, Werewolves, pishtacos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 07:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21095918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/pseuds/grey2510
Summary: It's Halloween and Garth invites the Winchesters to a costume party at his house. It's time to trick or treat yo' self to a good time!





	It Was a Graveyard Smash

Garth didn't want to brag, he thought, looking over his house where every available surface was decorated—pumpkins, skeletons, bats, you name it—but he knew how to throw a good shindig.

"Who's next bobbing for apples?" he called over the general din of music and laughter. "Carol, you in?"

Carol, who was wearing a red and white striped shirt and round glasses, shook her head, laughing. "Man, the whole point of this costume is that you _don't_ see me and drag me into this!"

"Aww, c'mon. How about you, Jamal?"

Carol's husband, Jamal, pushed himself off from the counter quickly, causing his Wonder Woman tiara and wig to slip off his head. He grinned toothily as he readjusted his costume. "Yeah, what the hell, I'll give it a go."

"Hey, that's cheating!" a voice shouted from the other side of the room with a laugh. "We set up a vampire handicap? Some of us gotta use regular old teeth, ya know."

Garth clapped Jamal on the shoulder as he turned, addressing the shapeshifter who currently appeared as the most terrifying thing in existence: Donald Trump. It was their third 'costume' of the night, and Garth was hoping they'd choose something a little more family friendly for their next shift. "Oh, I don't think Jamal would cheat, Avery. All in good fun, right?"

"Plus," countered Jamal, who was currently pretending to do some stretching and warm ups for his apple-bobbing adventure, "not like we had handicaps for the costume contest, Mx. My-Whole-Life-Is-A-Costume-Party."

There were loud guffaws around the room, including from Avery, who gave a self-deprecating shrug and toasted Jamal with their beer.

Jamal and Garth made their way into the garage where Garth had set up the barrel, a small handful of people following them and joining the group already there. The garage doors were open, letting in a much needed breeze on the unusually warm October night. Bess greeted him with a peck on the cheek.

"How you doin', little lady?" Garth drawled, tipping his cowboy hat to her.

She blushed—gosh, she was adorable, and wasn't just he the luckiest?—and curtsied in her prairie dress. "Oh I'm—oh drat!" She chuckled and licked her thumb, which she then rubbed on his cheek. "Got my lipstick all over you!"

"Not like I mind."

"All right, everybody," Jamal announced. "You're about to see apple-bobbing _history_ here."

There were hoots and hollers and claps as Jamal strode up to the barrel like he was Rocky. He was just about to duck his head in when a car roared up and parked on the grass next to a few other cars and trucks that had done the same. Three men climbed out and Garth was mildly disappointed to see that only Dean had gotten into the holiday spirit: looked like he and Dean were twinsies with the cowboy costumes. But, that was fine—he was just glad they were here and there wasn't some end of the world shebang going down.

"Sam and Dean! And Castiel!" Garth called as he jogged over to greet them. "C'mere, guys!"

"Hey, Garth," Sam said with a smile as he hugged Garth back. Now, Garth didn't like to play favorites, because both brothers had their moments to shine, but Sam gave really good hugs.

Dean, to Garth's delight, had his arms open and ready to go for a big ol' bear hug. "Hey, man, been a while. How ya been?"

"Good, good! You missed Gertie—poor thing got tuckered out about an hour ago, which you never woulda thought was possible considering how she was running around like a crazy person before crashing. Kids, amirite?"

"Ha, yeah," Dean agreed with a chuckle. "Kids are wild."

"Sure are! And you remember Bess?" he said, gesturing to his wife behind him.

The rest of the garage was talking amongst themselves—Jamal's performance obviously delayed by the Winchesters' arrival. The brothers greeted Bess warmly while Garth pulled the angel into a tight hug. Castiel froze, but eventually and awkwardly hugged Garth back.

"And Castiel! It's so good to see you! You're looking good, dude," he said, stepping back.

"Uh, yes. Thank you. You have a lovely home." Castiel didn't sound all that sure of the statement, more like he was reciting a script, but Garth knew he meant well.

Dean came back and threw an arm around Cas' shoulders. "Yeah, Cas says we don't get to parties all that much, so we're here to prove him wrong."

Cas pursed his lips but didn't reply. It was obviously a bit of familiar banter between the two of them.

"Well," Garth said, "how about I get you a drink? We got beer, wine, cocktails—spiked mulled cider that Bess brewed up, mmmm…."

"Oh yeah, now we're talkin'," Dean said and grinned.

Garth led them into the house, noticing vaguely that the chatter definitely increased as they left the garage. He showed them to the kitchen—and he was relieved to find that Avery had shifted into the form of Morticia Addams—where they'd put a large blue cooler labeled with a sign that said 'BOOS'. "Help yourself!"

"Awesome." Dean popped open the cooler and started perusing the selection. He handed a beer to Cas, who accepted it automatically.

Sam waved to everyone in the kitchen and started to introduce himself.

"Garth! We need our apple judge!" Jamal called from the garage.

"Coming!" He turned to the Winchesters. "Make yourselves at home, amigos."

As soon as he got back to the garage, though, it was clear something was wrong.

"What's up, guys?"

Carol said in a low voice, "You invited the _Winchesters_?"

"Uh, yeah?" Garth looked around at all of them. "It'll be fine, guys! Really, they're like teddy bears, when you get to know them."

"Right. Teddy bears," said a djinn that Garth had only met a few times.

"They're the monsters under _our_ beds, Garth," Jamal argued.

"I wouldn't invite them if any of you were in any danger. 'Sides, it's not like any of you have been hurting any humans, right?" There were murmurs of assent through the group, which reassured Garth. "I promise, it'll be fine."

* * *

There was something odd but also familiar about the party, and it took a minute for Dean to put a finger on what it was. Asa Fox's funeral. It'd been weird finding out he and Sam were practically legends. Sure, he _knew_ the Winchester name carried some weight in the hunter community, but it was another thing meeting the people who told _stories_ about you 'round the beer cooler.

Except this group...there was something else.

"I'm Dean," he said, offering his hand to a dude in his thirties or so dressed as a pirate. The other person was the spitting image of Morticia—the 1960s one, not Angelica Huston—and Dean felt he should be looking around for Gomez or Lurch, too. They both nodded, as if they already knew, and the pirate guy shook his hand.

"Quentin." He jabbed a thumb towards Morticia. "They're Avery."

Avery just offered a twirl of well-manicured nails.

"So, uh," Dean asked, quietly, "you members of Garth's...family?" Garth had said the party would be friends and family, but he wasn't sure if that meant they were all werewolves, and he didn't want to out Garth to the neighbors if they didn't know.

"Not exactly," said Avery in a rich voice. "But we know you used to work with Garth." There was something almost accusatory in their voice, but Dean couldn't tell if it was just the Morticia-shtick.

"And that you're still in the business," Quentin added, hard-eyed.

Ok, so they definitely knew he was a hunter, but if they weren't part of Garth's family…

"Uh, yeah. We met on a job." Best to be noncommittal and vague, just in case. "So you know about the business?"

"Of course," Avery scoffed. "You're a _Winchester_. Everyone knows who you are."

"Are you hunters?"

Quentin and Avery eyed each other before snorting in unison.

"Hardly," Quentin said, though the word was a little muffled as fangs descended. "That a problem?"

Dean blinked and swallowed. He looked around the room, suddenly aware that the kitchen had gone quiet as everyone watched. In the corner, Sam's eyes widened as he suddenly put together the exact same thing as Dean. Beside Sam, Cas' jaw set and his arm straightened as if he were about to summon his blade. This could go south _real_ fast. But there was no way Garth would invite them into a trap; while the guy had a big heart and wanted to see the good in everyone, he wasn't that naïve.

"No, no," he said, plastering on a smile. "Garth says you're good people, I believe him." He held out his beer.

Quentin considered it, then knocked his own beer against Dean's. "Yeah, alright, I'll drink to that."

There was a collective sigh of relief in the room, although Avery just rolled their eyes. "Boys."

Dean didn't really have a comeback for that. "So, hey, that's a sweet costume. You really nailed the Carolyn Jones look."

"Thanks. I put a lot of time into it."

Quentin rolled his eyes. "Don't let them fool you. It's their like ninth shift tonight—"

"Fourth."

"Just tell me you didn't leave an ear in the bathroom again."

"That was _one_ time, dude."

"Shift?" Dean asked, before his brain stopped him. "Right. Naturally. Awesome."

Avery smirked, as if to say, '_Bout time you caught up._ To Quentin, they added, "At least my costumes aren't bad puns."

"Vampirate is a great pun!" Quentin huffed.

Dean nodded. "Finally, someone agrees! I told my buddy Benny that once—he was a legit vampire pirate—and he was all 'no one says that, we're all too serious and angsty and hate fun'."

"So lame."

"Right?"

Avery eyed the two of them like an exasperated parent of small children. "Ohhhkay then. You two have fun with that. I am going to get more cider and some of that mac and cheese Richie made."

Dean and Quentin shook their heads as Avery sashayed off in their black dress.

"No fun," Dean said.

"None at all. Damn tragedy." Quentin clapped a hand on Dean's shoulder. "How about I show you around?"

* * *

Once Dean had become drinking buddies with a vampire, Sam found it easier to mingle with the partygoers. Even Cas seemed to loosen up and had joined the group Dean was in, although whether he had voluntarily joined or been dragged into the conversation (literally) by Dean was kind of a grey area.

"So how do you guys know Garth?" he asked the two women who had introduced themselves when he'd gone to the potluck table set up in the dining room. The quinoa and chicken salad someone had brought was really good—he was going to have to get the recipe.

"Bowling," said Kiara with a laugh. Sam could just make out the faint lines of blue djinn marks up and down her arms until they disappeared under her yellow t-shirt that had a black zig zag across the middle. "Garth runs a pretty good league. The vamps are winning this year, but I think we got a chance to make a comeback before the season's up."

Sam blinked. "Bowling. You guys have a league?"

"Yup," said Antonella with a nod. Unlike Kiara, she didn't have djinn marks, or they were better covered by the black long sleeved shirt she wore underneath the nylon pumpkin costume.

"And every, uh, species is a team?"

Kiara shook her head. "Nah, some of the big groups are—the vampires, the lycanthropes. Garth's team took a hit once Gertie was born; Bess was their star player, but she's been busy. Our team is kind of a mishmash. Me 'n Luke are djinn, Toby's a kitsune, Avery's a shifter…"

"I'm a pishtaco," Antonella said, answering Sam's unasked question. "We're pretty rare up here, but…"

"Oh, yeah," Sam said, remembering the weight loss clinic he'd pretended to be a yoga instructor at. "I've met one of you before."

"Met or _met_?" Antonella asked with a frown.

Sam's shoulders lowered. "One we met, one we _met_. He couldn't control himself. People were getting hurt. His sister was good, though. We let her go."

Antonella nodded. "We own a spa together. Me 'n Kiara. No one gets hurt."

"I believe you." And he did. It was like he tried to explain to the Alpha Vampire a few years ago: hunting wasn't just about killing things. It should be more like cops and robbers: the only non-humans who should be worried were the ones who were hurting people. Unfortunately, he knew too many hunters who didn't see things that way, though the younger generations were getting more open-minded. Sam wondered how many communities there were like this, with monsters flying under the radar, just going about their lives and co-existing with their human neighbors like everyone else. Probably more than he realized. "So a day spa, huh?"

Kiara reached past him for some chips and salsa. She crunched into her chip and nodded. "You explain," she said, muffled, covering her mouth with a hand.

Antonella gave her a fond but exasperated look. "Weight loss treatments from me, obviously. Kiara's part is more escapist therapy. For an hour or two, they can check out and live in a dream."

"I keep it at a strict limit," Kiara said, finally chip-free. "For my own control and for their mental safety. Living in a dream for too long isn't healthy."

Sam considered this. Seemed like a decent business plan. "And your clients know?"

"Some do, some don't. Those that do are very discreet—we make sure of that. Those that don't, well…" Antonella shrugged. "Lots of people don't like to think too hard about things."

"A good helping of New Agey lingo doesn't hurt either." Kiara gave him a thoughtful look. "You know, if you ever need a day to recharge… First timers get a fifteen percent discount."

Sam shook his head. "Thanks, but...I've had too much experience with people messing around with my head. No offense."

"None taken."

Garth came back just as Sam was starting to think seriously about another helping of the quinoa. "Sam-my-man! See you found two of the best bowlers this side of the Mississippi!"

"Yeah, they were just telling me," Sam said warmly. "Didn't know you had a whole league going and everything. That's great."

"Oh absolutely! You guys should join—I know you're not always in the area, but we'll sometimes hit the lanes for fun."

"I'll keep it in mind." Sam couldn't remember the last time he'd been bowling, but he was sure Dean would jump at the chance.

"Or," Garth said, his eyes lighting up, "you could come to poker nights. Actually I'm surprised you haven't already. Aren't you close with Rowena?"

"Wait," Sam spluttered. "You play poker with _Rowena_?"

"Oh heck no," Garth laughed. "She plays at the high stakes table. Learned the hard way that she'll clear ya out. I play at the dollar buy-in table. But it's great: everybody brings food and drinks, and just has a great time."

Kiara and Antonella nodded encouragingly.

"You know what?" Sam said. "Give me the time and date for the next game. I'll be there."

"Right on, amigo."

And if it gave him a chance to see Rowena, all the better. He'd beaten a centuries old witch at poker before, but he somehow thought he wouldn't mind all that much if Rowena cleaned house.

* * *

"So what's your costume?" the vampire named Carol asked him.

"Uh," Castiel said, looking down at his suit. "Human."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Cas here is an angel and he thinks he's funny."

"I wasn't being funny. I was being factual."

"Uh huh. Don't give me that 'I don't get human jokes' bullshit."

Carol's eyebrows raised. "_You're_ the angel?"

"Yes. You've heard of me?" Castiel wasn't sure if he liked the scrutiny of the group around him, but Dean was casually drinking his beer and seemed unconcerned, which was reassuring.

"Yeah, but you're not at all what I expected."

"Ain't that the truth," Dean muttered. "Cas is the only angel that isn't a dick. Most of the time."

Castiel gave him a flat look which Dean returned with a wide, snarky smile. Dean was lucky that Castiel had already used his threat to smite him when he'd put on his cowboy costume and said with a wink, "There's a snake in my boot!" Unfortunately, one can only use that threat so many times in a night before it loses its power.

"And I'm sure you're a charmer all the time," Quentin said to Dean, which made him chuckle.

"_Thank_ you," Castiel said. Carol snorted into her red plastic cup.

Dean knocked his shoulder against Castiel's. "Aw c'mon, you know you love it."

"Most of the time."

"Touché."

The conversation continued and a few others joined. Bess, Garth's wife, introduced them to her cousins, Joseph and Christie, and Sam eventually made his way over with two women he had been talking to. Castiel couldn't help but think how amazing it was to see so many monsters mingling without even a hint of aggression. There should be more Garths out there to encourage this type of harmony. The world would be a better place.

As if on cue, Garth's voice cut over the conversation and noise of the party. "Hey, folks," he said, climbing up on top of a chair. "Just as a reminder—cow hearts, raw meat, and animal blood go in the kitchen refrigerator and freezer. We set up the one out in the garage for all the non-meat and cooked foods. Booze is in the blue cooler, soft drinks go in the red. If you're the one who put the thermos in the red cooler, I put it in the kitchen fridge for you."

"Sorry, that was me. My bad!" someone in the crowd shouted.

There were good-natured groans from that corner of the room and Garth just smiled. "No worries. No harm, no foul."

"Hope he cleaned the red cooler…" Dean muttered. "Hard pass on the Coke and hoof and mouth..."

"He must have, right?" Sam said under his voice. He eyed his beer, even though it had come from the blue cooler.

Castiel held out his hand towards Sam's beer. He couldn't sense anything wrong about it, but he cleansed the bottle and Sam with a touch of grace anyway, just to be sure.

Dean thrust his own bottle towards Cas. "Me too."

"I'm sure you're both fine," Castiel assured him, though he repeated the process. "I'll check the red cooler in a bit."

"Yeah well, I'm still sticking to beer tonight."

"Like you needed an excuse," Sam said.

From the other side of the room, Garth was still on his chair, and had just finished announcing that Jamal was indeed the apple bobbing champion of the night. There were cheers from one knot of people by the front door while a few others in another group booed between laughs. "Alright, alright. Don't worry, Lori, I'm sure you'll get it next year. And now, anyone who wants to play Horror Movie Trivia, get your teams together! Max of four! Come get your answer sheet! Winning team gets a prize!"

Beside him, Dean grinned. "Oh _hell_ yes. We totally got this."

He went off to find Garth, and Sam and Castiel looked at each other in a mix of amusement and resignation.

"What do you think the prize is?" Castiel asked.

"I'm not sure I want to know," Sam said. "But unless someone else here is a bigger movie nut than Dean, I'm sure we're going to find out."

Castiel agreed. "You and Dean should go to more parties. This was an enjoyable experience, if unexpected."

"Well, we got a standing offer to join Garth and his friends for poker and bowling."

Cas frowned as Dean returned with a piece of paper and a pencil. "I've never been bowling."

"Never been bowling?" Dean said. "I thought that's what angels did up on their fluffy clouds when they weren't playing their harps."

Castiel ignored the harps comment, but he'd never heard of any angels bowling. "What—?"

Sam cut him off. "It's a kid story. Thunder comes from angels bowling."

"Oh. I see."

"Ok, everyone got their teams?" Garth asked. There were murmurs of yeses in the room. "Now no looking up anything on your phones. Question one: What is Hatchet Man's real name?"

Dean was practically bouncing in his cowboy boots and he whacked Cas with the back of his hand. "I went toe to toe with him last year!"

"You went toe to toe with a ghost possessing a mannequin," Sam reminded him.

"Whatever! It was _David freaking Yaeger!_" Dean's voice rose with excitement.

"Thanks for the answer, Winchester!" Avery the shapeshifter called from across the room.

"Right, right. Sorry!" Dean said.

"It's ok, Dean. We'll call that one a practice round," Garth announced. "So, question two, and remember, write your answers on the _paper_."

Dean grinned sheepishly. Castiel felt himself relax. It was so rare to see the brothers like this, and he was determined to enjoy it, even if just for one night.

* * *

"I think we did good, honey," Bess said, putting another plate in the dishwasher as Garth tied up a trash bag.

"We sure did!" Garth leaned the bag against the door to the garage next to another one waiting to be taken out.

Now that the night was over, she had to ask. "Did you really mean to invite the Winchesters without telling anyone?"

"Well," Garth admitted, giving her his puppy-dog eyes. "I didn't want to lie, but I knew if I told 'em all before I was going to invite hunters, they wouldn't've come. I just had to trust them and the Winchesters to figure it out for themselves. I knew they'd all come around."

Bess put her arms around his neck and kissed him. She tapped his fake star badge. "And if they didn't, the Sheriff was going to run them out of Dodge?"

"Yes, ma'am. But I knew this town was big enough for all of 'em." He gave her the goofy grin that she fell in love with and she kissed him again.

"You're a good man, Garth Fitzgerald."

"Aw, shucks."

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Coldest Hits:  
[Here was the prompt and rules for this month!](https://spncoldesthits.tumblr.com/post/187474693488/october-2019-prompt-monster-mash-posting-dates)
> 
> I don't care about winning - comments and kudos appreciated :)  

> 
> My other works (sorted by series for easier navigation):  
[Grey's works](http://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/series)  
Come visit me on Tumblr! @[grey2510](https://grey2510.tumblr.com/)


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